Page 190 of The Blame Game

“There’s a little fun,” Dustin said drily, “and there’s swapping spit with half the greater Toronto and Boston areas.”

“Kissing is a highly underrated way to spend time,” Jesse said in a lofty tone. “Besides, it’s not my fault I’m irresistible.”

“Oh God, someone get him away from Nico!” Felix groaned. “Clearly we have a 2.0 on our hands.”

“Hey, don’t blame me,” Nico protested. “I go home every night to my Auggie.”

“Yeah, and someone’s gotta pick up the slack.” Jesse shot them a sly smile. “The young, hot singles in the area still need love.”

Dom rolled his eyes, looking Jesse over.

Despite the fact that Jesse had finished his shower before Dom did, he was still dressed in a towel. It showed off his broad shoulders and narrow waist, all lean, tight goalie muscles.

With striking blue eyes and chiseled features, he was far too much of a pretty boy for Dom’s taste but he supposed he could see the appeal.

Jesse shot him a wink and Dom glanced away, suddenly uncomfortable. Shit. He never got caught looking at men in the locker room.

He froze.

Then again, did it matter now? Everyone knew he was gay and clearly didn’t give a shit about it.

Everyone knew he was with Shea.

No one cared.

“So, are you coming willingly, Olson?” Nico prompted, waving a hair dryer threateningly. “Or are we going to have to hog-tie you and take you kicking and screaming?”

“I’m not sure how much kicking I could do if I was hog-tied,” Dom said drily as he knotted his tie. “But yeah, I’ll come. No force necessary.”

A cheer went up from around the room and Dom had to turn away and reach for his jacket before anyone saw his eyes grow damp.

The truth was, for all his protests, he wasn’t going to have this for much longer and he wanted to appreciate every second of it.

He froze with the jacket in his hand, wondering if that was why Shea had encouraged him to go out tonight.

Probably.

If anyone would understand the way Dom was trying to savor these final games before they were gone, it was Shea.

Fuck, Dom was so in love with him it made him dizzy.

“Hey, are you coming, Olson?” Jordan called and Dom shoved his phone in his pocket and followed him, falling into step beside him.

“Yeah, let’s celebrate!” he said, grinning as he slung an arm around Jordan’s shoulder. “C’mon, boys. First round’s on me.”

“I am so pissed Crawford was out with an injury this post-season,” Matty shouted over the noise of the crowded club a few hours later. “I wanted to pummel him for making your ass bleed.”

Dom glared across the table. “Please never refer to the aneurysm that way again. And if you had taken stupid penalties and we’d lost to Boston, I would have kicked your ass.”

“But what if I’d taken stupid penalties and we hadn’t lost?” Matty asked with a bright grin. “Besides, you couldn’t kick my ass if you tried.”

“Wanna bet?” Dom asked, although he knew it absolutely wasn’t true. Matty had way too much bulk on him for Dom to ever compete.

“We’d all have kicked your ass if you’d taken a stupid penalty like that, Matty,” Dustin said drily. “Besides, Crawford didn’t mean to give Dom an aneurysm any more than you meant to separate Chad Morrison’s shoulder or injure Boyd Marsh’s ankle in previous seasons. It’s hockey. Shit happens.”

The argument continued for a while and Dom eventually tuned it out, letting the good-natured shouting wash over him as he glanced around, smiling.

For a moment, he tensed at the sight of a couple of guys kissing by the bar but he forced himself to take a deep breath. This was fine. This was perfectly normal.

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